Editorial: Merry Christmas: A reason for hope

Obviously this is true in a literal sense. We have reached that time of year when the days are at their shortest and the nights seem almost unending. Science explains all that: The tilt of the earth causes the sun’s rays to strike the northern hemisphere at an oblique angle this time of year.

Of course, knowing this doesn’t make the dawns any less late or gloomy. It doesn’t change the fact that business hours typically outlast the daylight.

In fact, this darkness is the very reason some historians believe Christmas comes when it does. After all, the New Testament has nothing to say about the date on which Jesus was born. Many historians believe there was a “Christianizing" of pagan festivals, including the winter solstice festival, which celebrated the lengthening of days and the ultimate return of the sun. And so it happens that in the holiday season, the days are literally at their darkest.

But this also seems metaphorically true. To many of us, the days just feel darker.

Families and communities across the country continue to struggle against the tide of an economy that seems persistently, stubbornly sluggish. And while a long war in Iraq has finally come to a long anticipated end, dangerous flashpoints continue to surface elsewhere around the globe. They stretch from the Korean peninsula, where North Korean instability is raising fears across the region, to Iran, whose alleged pursuit of nuclear weapons has the international community on edge.

Meanwhile, closer to home, high rates of joblessness remain a fact of life. And here in Muskegon County, one of our school districts is engaged in a battle for its financial survival.

The news -- local, national and global -- seems full of dark tidings.

But it's Christmas. And from its very beginning, darkness has served as a backdrop to the Christmas story. In fact, the same is true of Hanukkah, the Jewish Festival of Lights, which is ongoing through sunset Wednesday.

In fact, the Hanukkah story involves a literal darkness. At the center of the tradition are the Maccabees, leaders of a successful Jewish revolt against the mighty Syrian empire. When they ordered the cleansing and rededication of the Temple in Jerusalem, they found a critical shortage of olive oil for the menorah, which was required to burn through the night. But according to the story, a miracle took place: One day’s supply burned for eight days, long enough to prepare a fresh supply of oil.

And if anyone knew darkness, it was the principals of the original Christmas story. In our ever more sophisticated and high-tech culture, marked by materialism, commercialism, cynicism and secularism, the story is easy to dismiss. Even for steadfast believers, the temptation is to view the tradition through the cute, comfortable lens of a staged Nativity scene.

But read the story again. It is anything but cute or comfortable, especially if you allow yourself to walk toward Bethlehem in the principals’ sandals. A young girl finds herself inexplicably with child and facing a coldly cynical world. Her husband finds himself on the road, with a wife going into labor and no shelter in sight.

The background is a landscape of want and oppression. The cruel might of the Roman Empire looms just over the horizon. The threat of poverty lurks behind every hill. This is the tale of a long awaited Messiah, who enters the world in an environment not of splendor but of need.

Perhaps that is why the story has inspired hearts and bolstered spirits down through the centuries.

In the end, it is a story of hope overcoming hopelessness. It is a story of light breaking through an enduring gloom.

The list of story elements goes on and on -- darkness, destitution, homelessness, tyranny, denial, closed doors, a crushing lack of resources.